


Come Now, Why Won’t You Dine with Me?

by ginger_infiltrator



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: ?? - Freeform, AU, AU not mine, Cannibalism, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Gore, I couldn't help myself, I'm just dicking around in it, M/M, Southern Gothic, Vore, as fluffy as I get, autocannibalism, but it is to me?, i have been told that this isn 't really fluff, i have sinned, i live for this au, kind of, monster!kylo, not like part of the AU canon, octorok and crowlicious made the AU, sorry - Freeform, step this way for some sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginger_infiltrator/pseuds/ginger_infiltrator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Southern Gothic Hux makes monster!Kylo some dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Now, Why Won’t You Dine with Me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ocktorok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocktorok/gifts), [crowlicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowlicious/gifts).



> Hi this is NSFW (not safe for weenies) I am a sick woman. 
> 
> Un beta'ed because I was impatient.

Hux wasn’t entirely sure what it was about the scent of caramelizing onions that colored the sunset in a buttery haze, but the distinct juxtaposition of senses washed over him in a wave of warm nostalgia even in the simmering Georgia heat. Oil and watery plant flesh bubbled and popped in his pan. Outside his kitchen window he could see the bleeding sky resplendent and dying off, pallet growing frostier as the temperature dropped minutely. At its apex, the sun hemorrhaged a peony kaleidoscopic smear.

Vegetation swayed in a drunken arc, almost coordinated under the bleeding sun. Weeping willow branches undulated side to side over the humid swampland that stretched for miles behind the property. Shadows flickered here and there under the reflected shapes of wilting leaves. Periodically, they would swarm together in a shape almost like a man, only to scatter when Hux brought his eyes to the illusion. There was no doubt in his mind that Kylo lurked just in the edges of his vision, playing coy. His monster may thrill at surprises, but too long denied, and he would retreat in a sullen tantrum somewhere just out of Hux’s reach. Kylo relied on that frustration of denying Hux his darker moods. Some kind of vain impulse to keep his attention, perhaps. An intrigue of sorts.

Maybe Kylo had not appreciated Hux’s game that morning.

The monstrous man seemed willing enough that evening, purring as Hux had separated Kylo’s vastus lateralis from his rectus femoris at the curved mound of his thigh. Hux had inserted his middle finger to feel the sucking pressure around his digit that mirrored the clasp of Kylo’s insides on Hux’s prick as he rode him. Thigh muscles bunched and pulsed with Kylo’s movements in time with the fluttering of his eyelashes and the bob of his Adam’s apple. The channel boring into his thigh pulsed wetter than that between his legs, but Hux found pleasure in both. A bizarre churning began around Hux’s finger as the flesh moved strangely, reaching back towards its torn edges, knitting itself together. Hux twitched the tip of his digit to graze the femoral surface of bone beneath the stirring fibers of muscle. Blood trickled inward and pooled wetly at the base of Hux’s member. Kylo spilled as Hux dragged his fingernail against the grainy shaft of his femur. Hux himself had required more savage sucking bites to Kylo’s neck to reach completion, his spasming jaw embossing a violaceous bruise.

Hux fell asleep that night with his finger still buried into Kylo’s thigh, the rest of his hand clasping what solid skin and muscle he could reach. In the morning, Hux woke with all five of his fingers brushing epidermal tissue, bereft of the warmth of Kylo’s muscular clutch. That evening Hux briefly imagined waking stitched together with Kylo, caught in an organic finger trap, the only escape a hard yank and stretching of tissue until it tore. Here in the morning light they were two separate creatures again. The margins of their bodies had closed off like hostile borders. In the haze of sleep Hux found this utterly unacceptable.

A single curved knife lay in the bedside drawer, tucked away in a sound manner night after night. Hux could now reach back behind himself to grab its smooth handle without waking the monster cradled in his arms. The slick surface was familiar beneath his fingers, not yet warm with his own body heat or Kylo’s blood, but it would be soon. Its blade was never clean, dotted in coagulated rusty patches that Hux had to scrub off with warm water and soapy bleach in the mornings.

Hux curled his body against the sharp curve Kylo’s spine, melding to accommodate the bulkier portions of the other man’s frame. Kylo snuffled softly into the pillow, strangely vulnerable under the pinkish rays of the early morning sun. Hux hooked his chin over Kylo’s shoulder. He could now clearly see down Kylo’s chest and abdomen, a pale fleshy canvas which rose and fell with a lethargic cadence. Hux traced from the zenith of Kylo’s ribcage, skipping lightly along his sternum only to dig more insistently down the midline to his navel. Here Kylo was just as soft as any man. In fact, he was warmer and more pliable in his sleep.  Kylo was always pleasantly malleable to the more violent of Hux’s whims.

Hux traced his free fingers not holding the handle of the knife back up the solid stretch of Kylo’s medial ligament, only to grasp back on the weapon and turn its point at the joining of Kylo’s ribcage.  The point dug sharply in, meeting little resistance. The monster arched his neck back and sighed and Hux dragged the blade down the slope of his floating ribs. The tips of the monster’s fingers blackened and sharpened, digging into his own thighs. Kylo huffed through his nostrils, heavy breath scenting the air.

Hux re-inserted the blade again at the xiphoid jut of Kylo’s sternum and pulled the knife down the opposing side, fashioning a large flap that sagged with gravity, opening up Kylo’s abdominal cavity wide. Blood flowed demurely onto Hux’s linens, an uncontrollable downpour avoided with the major arteries he did not choose to sever. Hux dropped the blade into the sheets and grabbed the flap he had created, stretching it down further to Kylo’s pelvis to expose the tender organs beneath. Hux’s prize glistened wetly, nestled into the thin flexing canopy of Kylo’s heaving diaphragm. Kylo struggled, not to pry himself from the clutch of Hux’s arms, but pushing himself back more insistently into the arc of Hux’s hips and fleshy cushion of his belly. The now-bloodstained linens ripped easily under Kylo’s claws.

Hux slowly inserted his hand underneath Kylo’s diaphragm, which spasmed with every breath the monster took. The slick curve under Hux’s palm gave sweetly with every squeeze of his fingertips.

“I always liked the taste of liver,” Hux said, slightly muffled with his mouth pressing Kylo’s shoulder. “Will you let me have yours?”

Kylo whined and arched his spine, pushing his exposed entrails insistently against Hux’s invading hand and forearm.

“I will take that as a ‘yes.’”

Kylo’s dusky fingers clutched at the abandoned knife buried in the sheets. The monster turned just enough to offer the weapon to Hux.

“Then it’s definitely a ‘yes,’” he said, clasping the knife again.

Hux pulled more insistently at the upper margins of Kylo’s liver, pulling it down to expose the sinew tying the organ to the diaphragm. The blade easily dug into the coronary ligament, severing connective tissue on either side as Hux feathered the sharp edge against more stringy attachments holding the liver inside. Kylo’s liver slumped forward and finally pulled free when Hux cut the hepatic vein and portal vein tying it to the inside of Kylo’s abdomen. The liver separated, sagging under gravity’s pull until its weight tore the connective tissue that had glued it to the spleen and stomach. It flopped in a moist patch of bedsheet, soaked through from the blood seeping slowly from Kylo’s veins.  

The abomination in human guise shifted and pressed its hips into the mattress, frantically rutting, chest pressing against the detached liver. Hux hooked his fingers into Kylo’s diaphragm, pulling insistently back against his ribcage to pull him to lay supine on the bed. Kylo’s sclera had completely darkened so that his gaze shone entirely black. His teeth gritted tightly together, sharp points reminding Hux to give into the beast before it decided to tear him apart in frustration. He stretched his hand, still glossy with blood, to wrap his fist around Kylo’s dick. Hux gripped hard and stroked fast, knowing that Kylo had already been pushed towards the precipice. At the upstroke, Hux twisted sharply to drag his coagulating grip across Kylo’s erectile flesh. Kylo ejaculated onto the flap that was once his taught belly, the higher drops at the apex landing wetly into his open abdomen.

Kylo’s chest heaved, slightly hindered by the open wound stretching across its base, offering no tension to pull against. Hux pet at his sternum with his hand, now covered in sticky blood and drops of semen.  Kylo dozed lightly as Hux gathered up his liver and nuzzled against the ragged edge of the wound he had created. The borders twitched gently as they put out questing fibers to close the offending gape.

Hux briefly thought of covering his mattress in a rubber sheet to save it from the lasting effects of his nocturnal sins. The current mattress would certainly have to go. He had flipped it before, but now both sides undoubtedly sported unseemly stains. A new mattress, then. And also new sheets. Maybe sheets much darker than the creamy cotton he already owned, now painted in a Rorschach of dried blood.

Hux took Kylo’s liver from the bedroom and had wrapped it in crisp butcher paper and tied it with twine. Into the icebox it went. When Hux had doubled back to his bedroom, he found the monster absent from his bed. He was accustomed to Kylo’s absence in the twilight hours, but not when the sun glared brightly down on Georgia. He had no doubt that Kylo would return to him, so he went about the daily upkeep of his property, gaze always trained to the dark shadows of the swampland beyond the more tended zones of his land.

Now the kitchen was drowned in the moribund rays of the sun. Hux submerged portions of liver in a dry dust bath of flour and spices. The cookbook he had found this recipe in had been crisp with the characteristic yellowing mold of old books. No doubt it belonged to some forgotten matriarch of his family. Perhaps the meal would taste familiar. Hux remembered this dish vaguely from his childhood, the wafting aroma gently prodding against the homier of his memories.

Hux set his table as the sun spent its dying gasps, leaking a deep vermillion into the horizon. He chose a creamy spread, the only other options horridly ornate in their curving feminine patterns. The finest china was most definitely avoided for that exact same reason. The flatware Hux chose was much more understated, plain porcelain ringed in one solid circumference of gold. He spooned a small bed of caramelized onions on which he laid the tender fried portions of liver onto two plates. In its preparation he excised the gallbladder, rinsing any bitter taste of bile from the organ meat. The recipe called for calf liver, blissfully untainted by the contaminants accumulated through the life of a farm animal. Kylo did not house a virgin liver. Instead, Hux would consume the toxic sludge of Kylo’s prey, accumulated and refined in the dark spongy meat. The thought did not bother him.

Hux sat at the head of the table, staring straight ahead at one additional place he had made for Kylo. Steam wafted gently up from the surface of the plate.

“You had better hurry,” Hux called. “The food is getting cold.”

It seemed to Hux that the shadows pulsed and pulled together. Gradually he could parse out Kylo’s hulking form in the doorframe, wreathed in an iridescent feathered collar which refracted light unlike the rest of his shadow. Kylo crept forward into the warm light of the overhead, sniffing whiffs of steam as he passed by.

“You made dinner.” He said.

“I have.”

“I don’t usually…” Kylo gestured in a halting manner, hands churning. He calmed and sat. “I don’t usually dine like this.”

“Then consider it a special occasion.”

“I will.”

Kylo inhaled the nutritive aroma haltingly, eyelids briefly flickering at one spike of scent or another. Hux drew the dull blade of his knife across his portion of liver, easily splitting the flaky exterior and dragging against the more gelatinous center.

 Kylo snuck his paw into the inner corners of his feathered overcoat, grasping something wetly in the hidden pockets. He drew his hand out suddenly, dropping a single chunk of flesh on the meticulously set plating. It throbbed in a systolic pattern. Little blebs of foamy blood churned out of its severed vascular channels. Atria and ventricles twitched haphazardly, spurred on by the organ’s own electrical charge but disconnected from a higher, directive neuronal power.  It looked to Hux like a steer’s heart, or that of a cow, but he was quite assured that the organ pulsing on his table belonged to a human, or something very close.

“And who does that belong to?” Hux asked.

Kylo latched onto the wriggling meat and brought it to his mouth.

“No one you’d miss. Honest,” he said.

Kylo bit down and tore with the jagged points of his teeth. His jaws ground against the independent muscular pulse of his mouthful.

“Kylo! Manners!”

Kylo’s eyes widened, exposing white sclera as his pupils fixated unerringly at Hux’s face. Kylo’s jaw twitched, machinating the trapped flesh, until he opened his mouth wide. Chewed muscular fibers fell from his lips onto the plate.

“That’s not what I meant,” Hux said.

Kylo grinned, bloodied teeth exposed in an amused snarl. He took up the ignored fork to his right, stabbing against the miasma of raw and cooked flesh in front of him. He chewed and swallowed with a pleasured rumble.

“That’s better. Much more civilized.”

Kylo worked his way through the cooler, fresher flesh, down to the crisp layers of his own liver. His small pleased smile did not waver from texture to texture.

Perhaps someday, Hux would make him a meal he would truly enjoy. But in the moment, Hux just reveled in the satisfied wet chewing across the table from him.

**Author's Note:**

> So. Yeah. That's what was bouncing around in my brain. I had a rough week, what can I say? Except 'sorry.'
> 
> Ok hope you enjoyed my little gorehounds.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at gingerinfiltrator


End file.
